Just as of old—I do declare,—
The knot-hole in the wash-board there—
’Tis open still—just see!
Nine steps—I need not count them, though—
I’ll lay you what you will ’tis so:
The short flight there has four.
This hand-rail on the entry-side—
What sport for boys adown to slide,
As we were wont of yore.
The window at the head is seen,